"Smack—"
A crisp slap rang in Emily Carter's mind. Her eyes were bloodshot, the pale skin of her hand forming a stark contrast against the reddened cheek beneath it.
Lucas Grant stared calmly at Emily, who had collapsed onto the ground. Behind him stood a delicate-looking girl, dressed in light-colored clothing strikingly similar to Emily's.
Emily's fingers dug harshly into the small stones on the ground, soon staining them with traces of blood. Yet she seemed to feel nothing, her fingers continuing to scrape against the rough surface.
Off-screen, Nathan Reed gripped the armrest of his chair tightly, his gaze fixed on the blood slowly seeping out on the monitor.
"Wynne, I've told you so many times—she's my sister!"
"Sister?"
Emily pushed herself up slowly from the ground. The hem of her clothes was already stained with dirt. Her eyes were crimson, veins webbing through them as she stared straight at the girl hiding behind Lucas.
"And you call this a sister?! You've both spent the entire night in that room! And you call that just a sister?"
"What kind of sister will follow a married man around all day? What kind of sister needs her so-called brother—who isn't even related by blood—to warm her bed before sleep?"
The more Emily spoke, the more her body trembled, her voice rising uncontrollably.
"Wynne! That's enough!" Lucas's shout rang out, freezing Emily in place.
Emily's breathing was erratic as her lips parted again and again. "Adrian Moore, I want a divorce!"
"Sister…"
The girl who had been hiding finally spoke, her voice soft and fragile. "There's really nothing between Brother Adrian and me."
Emily raised her hand, about to strike her—but a large, rough hand caught her wrist midair, pushing her back several steps with force.
"Enough!" Lucas's voice carried restrained anger. His gaze remained locked on her, but was briefly drawn to the sachet hanging at her waist. He let out a faint laugh.
"In our dynasty's laws, women do not have the right to divorce their husbands. It's only men may dismiss their wives."
Lucas took a deep breath before continuing, "Fine. If you don't want to live like this anymore, then so be it. Tomorrow, I'll have Harris deliver the divorce letter to your room. The west residence will be yours. From now on, we go our separate ways."
After speaking, Lucas didn't spare Emily another glance. He turned, took the girl's hand, and left.
"Cut—"
The crew immediately rushed forward.
Lucas's assistant hurried over to check his makeup, handing him a prepared cup of water with the other hand. The rest of the staff busied themselves clearing the props scattered on the ground.
Only Emily remained seated where she was, unmoving. One hand clutched her ankle, her eyes tightly shut.
A large hand gently covered the back of hers. Startled, Emily opened her eyes and looked up.
Nathan held an ice pack in his hand, faint cold air radiating from it. He spoke softly, "Put this on, or your eyes will look like a frog's tomorrow."
Emily turned her head slightly away, taking the ice pack and pressing it lightly against her eyelid.
Nathan said quietly and quickly, "You didn't even cry like this when we broke up."
He lightly tapped her hand. "Let go."
Emily glanced at him before releasing her grip, slowly shifting her body to lean against the tree behind her.
Nathan held her ankle, gently pressing and probing for the painful spot, asking repeatedly, "Does it hurt here?"
Emily's brows furrowed slightly, her lips twitching as she softly replied, "It hurts."
After locating the exact spot, Nathan focused his gaze there, pressing and rubbing the joint carefully.
Outside the frame, Director Ryan couldn't help but smile slightly. He pulled Assistant Director Ethan closer. "This take… not bad. We'll keep it."
Ethan lightly waved the fan in his hand, adjusting his glasses without responding.
Emily rested on the ground for a while, her head leaning against the tree bark. After taking a few deep breaths, she slowly stood up with Nathan's support.
Her body swayed as she walked toward the director's tent. Nathan lifted the curtain open for her.
Emily gripped Nathan's arm tightly, her lips parting as she spoke, "Director, I've finished all my scenes. I'll be leaving now…"
Ryan glanced at Emily, then shifted his gaze to Nathan beside her.
Nathan looked at him coldly, his presence imposing. The ice pack in his hand had already warmed. A staff member tried to take it from him, but he refused.
Ethan sat nearby, smiling as he spoke, "Why don't you stay in Studio for now? Some parts of the script need revisions. We might still need your help."
Emily's eyes lit up slightly. She looked at the two directors, her voice carrying a hint of hope. "Really?"
Ryan gripped the script in his hand tightly, leaving faint creases. Without looking at her, he simply responded, "Mm."
Emily's grip on Nathan's hand tightened, causing even Nathan's lips to twitch slightly in discomfort.
Nathan frowned faintly, glancing at the visibly excited Emily. The irritation that had been rising in him dissipated at the sparkle in her eyes.
Without realizing it, a faint smile formed on his lips.